Poetry from the Isle of Lewis

This is by my friend Ursula Ghee Wieckowska, who lives on the Island of Lewis not far from Stornaway

Snow Hills

March is turning out to be the month of
Blue skies sun and brilliant snow
Not overwhelming snow
Pawprints made by the cats
Prints by the chickens crows and ducks
Then this morning all the prints were gone
It must have snowed in the night
Glistening crystals of snow now
Covering the ground smooth and white
By tonight the garden will be covered in prints again

Then over to the east the hills
Beautiful white covered in snow
The sun shining on them
Showing off their features
From a distance we see
The individual hills
Stac Polly Cul Beag
Cul Mor Sulliven
Canisp
Different shapes
Different personalities
They only appear on some days
This week we have been blessed
Everyday against the blue sky
They stand on the horizon
They stand on the sea

In the town the roads are wet
The traffic has melted the snow
And the black tarmac appears
Some snow is just lying
On the verges and roofs and
In between the trees

I head home and will look at the snow
Through the car windows
Then through my house windows
As long as the sun shines
Then it will disappear into the dark
To come again hopefully tomorrow
When I open the curtains in the morning
I will once again be blinded by the
Sun on the white snow